


At Last

by asparagusmama



Category: Lewis (TV)
Genre: Celebrations, Equality, M/M, Proposals, not season 7 compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-17
Updated: 2013-07-17
Packaged: 2017-12-20 10:30:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/886203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asparagusmama/pseuds/asparagusmama
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's a hot and sticky early evening in Oxford on the 16th July 2013 and Lewis takes his sergeant and lover for a walk along the Cherwell and Isis in Christchurch Meadow and asks him a perfectly legal question.</p>
            </blockquote>





	At Last

It’s hot. Unbearably hot. Over 30 degrees centigrade and still climbing despite the lateness of the hour. After two years of hardly what one could call a summer at all you’d think people would be grateful, but no. An Englishman’s prerogative is to grumble about the weather after all.

And of course, St Aldates police station does not have air con and the little electric fan in their office packed up some hours ago.

Hathaway opens the window and then closes it again. It has as much a cooling effect as standing in front of a fan heater set at full blast and warmth.

They’ve been working all day, going through a pile of cold cases Innocent dumped on Lewis’ desk. A fresh eye. The cold cases are the only thing cold.

Lewis doesn’t appear to be doing anything work related at all. He, from what James can observe, is watching BBCNews24 on silent, reading the subtitles. A strange smile suddenly plays on his lips.

“Ah, I’ve had enough of this,” he says suddenly, standing. “Maybe it will be cooler at the river. Coming?”

“Yes Sir.”

Both men leave their jackets, it’s too damned hot for them. They walk towards the main gates of the Meadow, circumnavigating hoards of young groups of Spanish, Chinese, Japanese and German kids with their matching brightly coloured backpacks in yellow, cerise, turquoise and blue, harassed looking EFL teachers and helpers shout helplessly as they try to disengage their charges from one another. An elderly couple, looking fagged out, he with a stick, her with one of those tartan shopping trolleys on wheels also fight to get through to the bus stop. 

As they get into Christchurch Meadow, there are more, a Mad Hatter tour of British and Foreign tourists, following a wilting looking student in his ridiculous oversized green top hat. Another tour passes by, Americans following a woman waving her umbrella.

They make it to the Cherwell, but the sides of the bank and the benches are full of locals making the most of the sun after a day in a shop, office of cafe or post grad students yet to go down sitting outside. The sounds of a hundred different languages wafts from the Botanic Garden. Punts and rowing boats pass on the river.

The two men, more than just work colleagues and friends now for two years almost, walk on, glad of the shade of the trees and the small breeze of the river, even if the crowds are heavy. Oxford on a hot day in July. What else could they expect?

The air is still; the ducks and swans seem to have vanished. Perhaps aquatic Oxfordians know of a quiet, cool place to go?

They cross the bridge where the Cherwell joins the Thames, or Isis as it is Oxford, and walk along the University boathouses, trespassing, and on the 16th July 2013, empty of students; they’ve all gone down.

“It’s quiet here, at least, isn’t it pet?” Robbie relaxes, away from Innocent’s prying eyes.

“Yeah, and not quite so hot,” James replies, lighting a cigarette.

“It passed.”

“What did?”

“You know. The Bill. Through the Lords, without a single blip. They reckon it’ll go for the Queen’s Royal Assent tomorrow or Thursday at the latest.”

“What will?” James had been busy with so many festivals and carnivals with his band lately he hadn’t really followed the news, but he could tell the answer to the question as instead of answering his boss, his lover, was lowering himself down on one knee,

“James Hathaway, will you do me the honour of making me the happiest man alive by consenting to be my husband?”

“Yes. Oh yes. Of course I will. Only get up will you!” James helps his lover to his feet and they hug and kiss and then James demands, “Where’s my ring?”

“Give us time love, I didn’t expect the old bastards to let the Bill through without a fight. Do you want diamonds?”

“You bet I do!”

**Author's Note:**

> For those not British or au fait with British news today (yesterday now as it's the wee small hours) the Equal Marriage Bill sailed through the Lords and it's third and final reading through the Commons and goes to Royal Assent by Thursday at the latest.
> 
> It is a hot sticky night in a village new build estate not too far from Oxford too hence this little ficlet I have just banged out. It's too hot and I'm in too much pain to sleep so i'd thought I'd celebrate today's news. Not betaed, apologies for probably the vast number of typos. if you spot one please do let me know.


End file.
